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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27968678">to tame the beast</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/goinghost/pseuds/goinghost'>goinghost</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>sloom - vespa's brain fics [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Penumbra Podcast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Delusions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional support animal, F/F, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Psychosis, kind of? not super sure if it counts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:21:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,268</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27968678</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/goinghost/pseuds/goinghost</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Except the shadow she kept seeing was getting...more. It was coalescing into a distinct shape that she could barely make out the longer she tried. It stayed at the corners of her vision, but it wasn’t just a shadow anymore. It had a weight to it that she’d never seen before. There was substance there that was full of intention and wholeness and she couldn’t figure out how or why. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Hallucinations aren't always bad! AKA Vespa gets a psychosis familiar</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Buddy Aurinko/Vespa Ilkay, Vespa Ilkay &amp; the cat, that will make sense if you read the fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>sloom - vespa's brain fics [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042317</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>to tame the beast</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>you know how i said my last vespa brain fic was self indulgent and niche? well this one is EVEN MORE self indulgent and EVEN MORE niche! truly an amazing achievement. it's a weird one, folks</p>
<p> i've written a lot of fics about what a terrible experience psychosis is but none about how sometimes it doesn't actually suck all that much! there are definitely aspects of my psychosis that i feel fondness towards and i wanted a chance to showcase what that side of it is like. partly inspired by a comment kevin made in the patreon post for shadows of the ship where he talks about how he discovered that hallucinations weren't always terrible things when he was researching to write vespa! </p>
<p>title from 'ginger' by the front bottoms </p>
<p>warning that vespa is delusional for the entirety of this fic but it's like...chill and cool. also she hallucinates one thing many times and it's talked about a lot.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Vespa didn’t realize that anything was...weird. At first. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The day wasn’t any different than the usual fare. The Carte Blanche crew were all planetside on Pluto for some personal time and much-needed shopping. They’d started the day wreaking havoc in a grocery store and were now splintered off into their usual pairs, Ransom with Steel, Rita with Sikuliaq, and Vespa with Buddy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was nice. It was going fine. Throughout the day she’d seen the occasional shadow out of the corner of her eye, but that was normal. There were voices, but there were always voices. And she managed to drown them out with Buddy’s laugh, so it wasn’t a big deal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except the shadow she kept seeing was getting...more. It was coalescing into a distinct shape that she could barely make out the longer she tried. It stayed at the corners of her vision, but it wasn’t just a shadow anymore. It had a weight to it that she’d never seen before. There was substance there that was full of intention and wholeness and she couldn’t figure out how or why. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It all came to a head when she saw it </span>
  <em>
    <span>move</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So far there’d just been this static, heavy </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>haunting the recesses of her vision, but then she saw it—the shape, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span>—dart into a nearby alley while she walked hand-in-hand with Buddy down a busy street. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vespa didn’t think. She mumbled something about needing a minute and practically ripped her hand out of Buddy’s to go chase it down. She’d feel bad about that later, but right now all she could focus on was the shape going somewhere just so that she would follow.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because that’s what it was, she determined. It was deliberately baiting her to get her to find it out. Well, Vespa was just curious enough to let herself fall into what was probably a trap. Or maybe not a trap, necessarily, because she didn’t feel scared when she saw the shape. In fact, it was almost comforting in a weird way, like it was going to help her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If she considered it a little more, she’d realize how odd that thought was, but in the moment, Vespa was too distracted chasing after the barely-discernible black blob. She stopped short a good ten feet into the long alleyway, glancing around for any corners that it could be hiding. And then startling because it wasn’t hiding in a corner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sitting dead center, waving a stringy black tail and titling a shiny black head to the side, was a cat. Not a Plutonian cat, not even a Rangian cat, but one like you’d see on Earth: small and two-eyed and furry. Vespa had only ever seen pictures of them, and she had no idea what it was doing so far from home. It was all black with bright green eyes, and she watched as the light around it seemed to ripple and reflect off its back like an oil slick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vespa stared at the cat. The cat stared back at Vespa. The world around them seemed to freeze, nothing moving but the cat’s long, thin tail. It didn’t make a sound. Vespa wasn’t even sure that it was breathing (which didn’t make sense. Cats, no matter what planet they were from, needed to breathe, right?). She blinked her eyes a few times. The cat blinked its eyes back. Suddenly, the only piece of the galaxy that mattered to her was this alley and the only thing flashing through her mind was the elegance of the creature in front of her. </span>
</p>
<p><span>This</span> <span>animal had chosen her, she realized. She didn’t have the presence of mind to understand how—how crazy that sounded. She just kept gazing at the cat that shouldn’t be there and thinking about how out of place she </span><em><span>should </span></em><span>have felt, but didn’t. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>All at once, the noise and bustling movement of the city around her came into sharp focus, as if someone had flipped a switch. The cat let out a soft yowl that sounded just on the side of reassuring and ran down the alleyway to a series of trash cans, hopping onto the lids and using them to reach a low fire escape. Vespa watched it climb up metal stairs and out of sight with a pang in her heart, like a piece of her was going with it. She didn’t understand, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to, not if it would keep leaving her feeling like part of her heart had been chipped away and thrown a few stories up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Darling, are you alright?” Buddy’s voice came up behind her, scaring the shit out of her and causing her to jump at least three feet into the air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, Bud,” she breathed, “A little warning next time.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was calling your name, I’d assumed you’d heard me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vespa blinked, “Oh,” she said, still staring at where the cat had disappeared, “Sorry, guess I was distracted.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, did you find what it is you were looking for?” Buddy asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You took off rather quickly, it seemed to be for a reason. Did you find the reason?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vespa tore her eyes away from the alley to look at her partner. Buddy’s expression was as composed as ever, although she could see that her hair was windswept and her shoes were dirty, like she’d been running through mud. It took Vespa another moment to realize that they were standing on an unpaved path, dirt wet with the artificial rain that she and Buddy had watched fall an hour ago. God, she would definitely need to clean her boots once they got back to the ship. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I—uh, yeah. I found the reason. Everything’s good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wonderful,” Buddy’s voice was the picture of relief, but Vespa could see the concern filling her eye. This was probably going to be something Buddy tried to talk about with her. Vespa couldn’t blame her, taking off for a muddy alley just to have a staring contest with a cat that shouldn’t exist wasn’t exactly the most mentally stable thing she had ever done. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, darling, it’s about time to head back to the ship.” Buddy reached out a hand for Vespa and she took it gratefully. Buddy’s fingers were warm and solid in her own. “Are you going to be alright? I don’t mean to pry—I’m certain you’ll fill me in on the details later—but I will admit, you look quite spooked.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vespa thought about the feeling in her chest like someone had snapped off one of her ribs and sent it flying onto that fire escape. She thought about the way the cat’s yowl had felt like coming home to a bath drawn and Buddy waiting for her. She thought about the light that had pooled around the cat’s rippling fur. “Yeah...Yeah I’ll be fine.” It only sounded halfway like a lie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wonderful,” Buddy repeated. She tugged Vespa’s arm out through where they’d both come. Her mud-caked heels tapped lightly as soon as they made their way back onto the pavement. She started chattering about something, some gossip she’d overheard that she’d tried piecing together a story out of just to entertain Vespa. Vespa really did try to listen—she always tried to listen when Buddy was talking—but her mind was too distracted to hear the words as anything but noise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they made it back to the Carte Blanche, she excused herself to the bathroom and watched herself in the mirror, looking for </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>that she couldn’t identify. The overhead light cast a strange shadow on her face, but this one didn’t shimmer like it was alive. It didn’t move to dart into an alley. It stayed firm on her skin, static and dark, and not what she needed to see. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After ten minutes, she gave up on trying to piece together the jumbled mess of her head and splashed some water on her face. She turned the faucet off with a small sigh and rubbed at her eyes with a hand towel, knowing if Ransom could see her he’d have some kind of conniption about the fate of her skin. Whatever. She didn’t want to think about Ransom right then. She didn’t want to think about anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vespa left the bathroom like she was discarding medical waste that she’d rather not deal with. Still, the missing puzzle piece in her chest ached. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t until much later that Vespa realized that the cat she’d seen had definitely been a product of her broken brain. It wasn’t exactly anything new. Vespa had been dealing with shit like this for years now. She still remembered when she’d see Buddy following her around and demanding her attention when she </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>she wasn’t real. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>different this time, was the fact that it didn’t bother her. The telltale disgust that always came with the realization that her mind had tricked her into believing something that wasn’t real never surfaced. Instead, she only felt...loss, the feeling of absence where the idea of the cat sat heavy in her ribcage. She missed it, she realized. She’d seen it once, and yet she missed it almost like she’d missed Buddy all those years. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why? Why was it affecting her like this? It shouldn’t have been. It was just a hallucination, a fantasy her brain cooked up for her while it roasted with radiation. She shouldn’t be having thoughts about </span>
  <em>
    <span>mourning </span>
  </em>
  <span>a goddamn figment of her imagination. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And she wasn’t, not really. But even she had to admit that her heart was emptier than usual in the coming says since she’d encountered the cat in that alley. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But whatever feelings she had were useless, because there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn’t magically make herself hallucinate again and she couldn’t get rid of the sticky sense of loss clouding her mind because for once she’d felt—safe. Secure. Comforted. In a way that she was sure now was delusional, but real to her nonetheless. And now she didn’t anymore, and she didn’t know what to do with that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then it happened again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vespa was dishing out leftover chili for herself and surreptitiously trying to check it for poison without weirding out the entire kitchen when a shape appeared out of the corner of her eye. At first she dismissed it as a shadow, just like last time, but then it </span>
  <em>
    <span>moved. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It came around to her direct line of sight, slinking onto the countertop and swishing that inky black tail back and forth. It was him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t know how she knew he was a him—probably part of the delusion thing—but in that moment, she didn’t care, all she cared about was the sudden burst of warmth in her chest at the sight of him. He didn’t make a sound (a dead giveaway of his unreality), but Vespa watched as he padded over to her and lapped at the chili she’d scooped into a bowl like he was tasting it. Like he was testing it for poison…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She knew it wasn’t real, on an intellectual level. Except she couldn’t really access that part of her brain at the moment. All she could do was watch with baited breath as she waited for the cat to drop dead right after she’d just seen him again. And she waited. And she waited. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was fine. He began licking his paws and scratching his left ear like she’d heard Earth cats were wont to do and he didn’t suddenly collapse. With a definitive meow (the first sound she’d heard him make since he’d appeared in the kitchen) that echoed over the noises of the other crew members bustling about, he pushed a paw onto the side of the bowl of chili and nodded his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The message was clear. It was safe to eat. He’d checked it for her. Vespa nodded her own head respectfully because this cat had just done her a favor and could have died and she wasn’t so much of an asshole that she’d let that go unnoticed. The cat blinked back at her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Between one second and the next, he vanished. She barely had time to process it before Steel said something behind her about, “using the damn microwave already,” and she growled a reply back at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If it didn’t have the usual bite that came with every interaction she had with Steel, well, no one said anything about it. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>It kept happening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vespa would feel her paranoia start to get the best of her, or a hallucination would be particularly terrifying and the cat would appear, looking like a puddle on pristine asphalt, and do whatever it was he did to make the knot of fear in her chest slowly start to unravel itself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t understand it. In fact, if she let herself really think about it, it terrified her. Because it meant she was losing grip on reality fast enough to warrant some kind of failsafe popping up in her brain to stop her from spiraling completely out of control, and that thought made her hands shake for long enough that she’d feel a kneading paw tickle her knuckles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was confusing and horrifying and anxiety-inducing and it was also the best thing that had happened to Vespa since she reunited with Buddy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t spend every second of every day </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared </span>
  </em>
  <span>anymore, just some seconds of every day. She didn’t stuff her food in her pockets when no one was looking because she was worried it’d been poisoned. She didn’t throw knives into the wall because she thought there was a Rangian scorpion crawling across the metal paneling. Hell, she barely fought with Steel or Ransom anymore because she felt less sure that one of them was gonna stab a knife through her ribs while her back was turned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buddy noticed. Of course she did, Vespa wasn’t exactly being subtle about the weight that was slowly being pulled off her shoulders by tiny claws. Buddy didn’t seem to know what to make of it, honestly. Every once in a while she’d look like she was about to start a big conversation before pivoting to something inane, like the way the Solar System looked last night through the large windows of the observation deck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vespa knew this meant that </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>should probably bring it up, but the thing about that was that she didn’t want to. Vespa could think of at least six things she’d rather do than tell Buddy the latest way her brain had decided to malfunction, even if it’d been nothing but beneficial so far. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So she doesn’t and Buddy doesn’t finish what she’s saying and Rita makes comments about Vespa being more fun during stream nights and she’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>So happy that you’ve been feelin’ good, Miss Vespa! </span>
  </em>
  <span>And Jet nods respectfully at her like the cat is wont to do these days and Ransom and Steel get all sappy in the kitchen and she can’t even bring herself to chase them out because today was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>good day </span>
  </em>
  <span>and maybe they deserve to have a good day too (and then she has to go gag into a trash can at the sappiness of that thought). </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the fragile balance of keeping her newfound companion a secret doesn’t last, as much as she wished it would. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a bad day. Wasn’t it always a bad day? Vespa was curled on her and Buddy’s bed on her side, not moving for fear of waking Buddy up. Her partner was snoring like a foghorn next to her. She tried to focus on how happy it made her when Buddy did something that proved that the great Buddy Aurinko was just as human as the rest of them, even with her perfectly manicured front. It was cute, and it usually made Vespa laugh to imagine what Rita or Ransom would say if they caught Buddy sounding like a ship’s siren at all hours of the night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tonight, however, it wasn’t entertaining Vespa, it just served as a reminder of how vulnerable Buddy was in her sleep, how vulnerable they all were. Anything could happen. The shadows could become people and flush them all out the airlock, for all she knew. She didn’t want that to happen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When a loud metallic clanging began erupting from the center of the ship, Vespa couldn’t help the way she sprung into action with a knife in hand. Buddy’s snoring stopped abruptly as she snorted and sprung up herself, albeit more calmly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wh—Vespa?” Buddy asked, her voice rough with sleep. “What’s going on, darling?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I—” Vespa started. And then stopped, because the cat had slunk his way into her quarters and was currently licking his paws without a care in the world. Huh. If he wasn’t worried, then it must not have been real. He would let her know if the danger was something that could actually pose a problem for them, or if it was just something she’d imagined. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She cleared her throat, “It’s nothing, Bud. Just got a little spooked. You can go back to bed.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not without you, Vespa.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” she said, and she believed it. “Like I said, stared at a shadow too long or something. I’m coming back to bed too.” To prove it, Vespa sat down on the mattress and slipped the knife back into the drawer of her bedside table. She wouldn’t be needing that anymore, not when it was obvious the cat planned to keep watch. She glanced at where he was sitting with his tail always moving. He looked ready for anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She must have been staring at him for longer than normal because Buddy asked, confusion evident, “Dear, what are you looking at?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh…” Vespa shrugged, turning her gaze towards her partner, “Nothing?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buddy shook her head a bit, but Vespa couldn’t tell if that was because she was psyching herself up to say something or she just didn’t believe her. She looked just like she had many times over the past week when Vespa would catch her almost speaking her mind before backing out. Well, it didn’t look like she was going to back out this time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve noticed you’ve been doing...better, as of late.” Buddy cleared her throat, “Less jumpy, more confident, that sort of thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I—uh, I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And that’s wonderful, dear. I’m very happy that you’re more comfortable with the crew. We are a family after all, it has been nice to watch as all of the crew—you included—interlocks together in their own ways. Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vespa peered at Buddy. It felt like she was building up to something, but figuring out what that was reminded her of pulling teeth. “Where are you going with this, Bud?” She asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My point is,” Buddy said, the picture of composure (but Vespa could see her nerves in the hand she carded through her hair), “that you’ve appeared to be doing well as of late, but you’ve picked up some habits. I’m not sure where they come from or what they mean, and because of that, I will admit, I’m a tad bit frightened.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vespa couldn’t help the way she winced at those words, not only because she knew what habits Buddy was talking about, but also because she didn’t like hearing that Buddy was scared of her now or something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her thoughts must have been clear on her face because Buddy was quick to say, “Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>of </span>
  </em>
  <span>you, darling, never of you. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>for </span>
  </em>
  <span>you. I’m not sure if it’s something that needs—well, that you need help with, if there is only the illusion of you having a better go of it. And that frightens me because I only want you to be healthy—whatever that means for you and whatever you need to do to get there.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not—” Vespa started to say, but she wasn’t sure how she planned to finish that sentence. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>better,” she said instead, “I’m not getting any worse, Bud, promise. My brain has just been giving me some...some extra help. It doesn’t mean I’m regressing and it doesn’t mean things will change for the worst.” Vespa reached out and took Buddy’s hand in hers. “I’m gonna have symptoms until I’m not sick anymore, Bud. I may even have them for the rest of my life depending on how the Curemother Prime works. What’s going on right now is just another aspect that we need to get used to, together. I’ve already made progress on that front.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But what </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>happening now?” Buddy asked insistently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vespa ran her other hand through her own hair, breathing a long sigh out of her nose. “That’s...a good question. I’ve been—uh, I’ve been having this hallucination. A good one, nothing bad. It’s been following me around sometimes. It shows up when I’m having a bad day and it just...helps.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Helps?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Makes me feel better, calmer, more in control. Less scared shitless about monsters under the bed. All those mushy things.” Vespa was trying to sound casual, like she was remarking on the weather, but she could tell that Buddy’s composure had cracked just a little under the weight of her words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her partner blinked at her almost eerily similar to the hallucination that Vespa was talking about. Except instead of feeling reassured by her sharp gaze, Vespa only felt her palms start to sweat. “And this hallucination—what exactly is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He, actually,” Vespa corrected, “He’s just a black cat, like one you’d find on Earth ages ago. Not really big or scary looking—although sometimes he’s kind of shiny in a weird way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buddy nodded, “And he’s good for you? This cat?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As far as I can tell he just wants to help me. He’s only ever made me feel better.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buddy nodded again. There was a moment or two of silence where Vespa waited for some kind of reaction while Buddy formulated a response. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then, “Does he have a name?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This cat,” Buddy said, “the one who’s been helping you so much. Have you given him a name? Or did he come with one, I suppose?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vespa shook her head, “No,” she said, unsure, “No, he didn’t have a name and I haven’t given him one or anything. I’ve just been calling him the cat in my head.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That seems a bit rude,” Buddy said in a cautiously teasing voice, “don’t you think he’d like to be called something?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To tell you the truth, Bud, I hadn’t thought about that.” She glanced at where the cat had been sitting last to keep watch on the bed, but he was nowhere in sight. Huh. Maybe he’d wanted to give them a private moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buddy followed her eyes, “Is he here now? Can you ask him if he wants a name?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, he’s—uh, he’s not here now. But you know what,” Vespa smiled, a small and genuine thing, “I think he’d like that.” She shuffled closer to Buddy on the bed, tucking herself into her love’s arms, “Do you have any ideas?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, tell me more about him. I’m creating a picture in my mind.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s black, sort of has a shine to him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buddy tilted her head against Vespa’s shoulder, “Inky?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, that sounds too...I don’t know, it just doesn’t sound right.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shadow?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vespa snorted, “Too dark and brooding. I don’t think he’d like it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Buddy rubbed her thumb against Vespa’s shoulder blades, “What about Penumbra?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Penumbra? What does that even mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s like a part of a shadow, but softer.” Buddy’s voice had grown quiet with sleepiness in the darkness of their room, but it comforted Vespa nonetheless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She considered it. The soft part of a shadow, huh? It certainly felt like it fit. The cat had appeared to her as a shadow when she’d first encountered him, and he had no more hard edges than she needed him to. She couldn’t normally touch him, but she could see the softness of his fur in every stretch he made. “I think that might be the one, Bud.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wonderful,” Buddy yawned out, “Give him my regards the next time you—” she yawned again, “—see him. It’s about time I went back to sleep.” She settled down on their bed, this time with Vespa in her arms. “I’m glad that there hasn’t been anything sinister going on. I never want your happiness to come at a price.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, me too.” And Vespa found that she really, genuinely meant it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goodnight, love,” Buddy said as she closed her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vespa smiled, “Night, Bud,” but Buddy only snored softly in reply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vespa kept her eyes open, staring out into their quarters like it might have the answer to a question she didn’t know if she needed to ask. Almost in response to her thoughts, she saw the familiar blackness of the cat edge into her vision. He didn’t make a sound, but he nodded his head in greeting to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She felt her eyes start to droop, comforted by the sight of him. It was definitely too late for her to be staying awake any longer. With a soft sigh, she settled further into Buddy’s arms. The cat watched and Vespa somehow knew that he’d be smiling if he could. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goodnight...Penumbra,” she whispered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Penumbra blinked back at her and nodded, and Vespa felt at peace. She closed her eyes and let herself drift to sleep. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading!</p>
<p>you can catch me on <a href="https://twitter.com/GHOSTZVNE">twitter</a>, where i talk perhaps too much about schizophrenia and also a lot about the penumbra podcast! </p>
<p>again, this is some niche content and it probably won't get a lot of traction because of that, so any kudos or comment you feel like leaving will absolutely make my entire week!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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